The Reluctant Marysue
by courtneylove15
Summary: Amanda finds herself on the plains of Rohan one day, and immediately curses the gods for turning her into one of the most feared and hated characters of all fandom: a Mary-sue. Rated 'T' for language.


One day, I had a sudden urge to write a quick one-shot about a girl landing in Rohan. So this, my friends, is what I came up with. Let me know what you think

P.S. I don't own anything, besides Amanda.

**The Reluctant Mary-sue**

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><p>It had been one year, three months, and fifteen days since she had arrived on the plains of Rohan.<p>

One year, three months, and eleven days since a group of children, who had wandered too far from their village, had found her unconscious body by a small creek.

One year, three months, and eight days since she had woken up to the sight of a kind face hovering over hers, gently wiping her brow with an old, grey cloth.

One year, three months, eight days, and one minute later that she realized that not only did she not know what was going on or why she was there, but she also had no idea what language the woman was speaking.

Because contrary to popular belief, and all those fanfictions she had wasted many years reading, Westron was _not_ the same as English.

And that, in her opinion, sucked some _major_ balls.

It had taken her only a single step outside of the small house she had found herself in to realize that she, Amanda Bennett, had somehow become a well-hated Mary-Sue, and landed in Middle-earth. What had once been a dream in her depressed teenage years, had very well become her worst nightmare. And in all those fanfictions she had once read, never once had an author managed to convey the heartbreak that occurred when a person realized they could never go home again.

She would never hear her mother humming horribly out of tune when she was making their weekly Sunday brunches, or see her dad smile when she told him about her dreams for when she finished college. She would never have the chance to tell her younger sister, that despite her constant teasing and moodiness, she really loved her. She would never get to tell her best friend James, whom she had known for five years now, that she had had a huge crush on him for the past three.

No, authors never addressed the past lives of their characters, and all that had been left behind.

And now that Amanda had found herself in such a situation, she realized why: because it fucking sucked.

It had taken her twenty minutes to exchange names with the older woman who had been taking care of her, three hours to get across the fact that she was not from any part of Rohan, seven days to be convinced to actually get on a horse, three weeks before she stopped crying herself to sleep every night, and two months before she could actually have something that could be considered some sort of conversation with someone else.

She'd never forget the day she'd found herself in Rohan. She hadn't died in a tragic car accident, or had a vision of Galadriel telling her that she had "a greater destiny to achieve." No, she had been in her school's library studying for the next day's biology exam one minute, and standing in a field of knee-high grass the next.

Talk about a shocker.

Amanda had then spent the first hour pinching herself, trying to get herself to wake from that dream she had obviously fallen into. But to no avail. It had taken a rather abrupt and violent thunderstorm, one that caused her to be drenched and freezing within one minute, to convince her that maybe, just maybe, this was real.

After all, if she had been dreaming, her hair wouldn't have looked like such a mess after it had dried. Humidity had never been her friend.

She had wandered around aimlessly for hours, desperate for someone, _something_, to help her out. Whether it be shelter, food, or water. All she got was grass, grass, and more grass. And not the good kind, either, if you caught her drift.

Days later, though it had seemed like weeks when she was left to only herself for company, she had found a small stream. Collapsing to her knees, she had swallowed as much water as she possibly could, and then abruptly passed out due to exhaustion, only to awaken three days later in an unfamiliar house, next to an unfamiliar woman.

Said woman had become her only lifeline in her new life.

Her new life, which randomly decided to appear after twenty-two years into her _old_ one.

Fridhu, as the middle-aged woman was named, was kind. There was no other way to put it. She had generously taken her in, with no thought as to how it would affect her. She had nursed Amanda back to health, which, admittedly, hadn't been hard, seeing as she had only been dehydrated and starving. The woman, who Amanda had come to look upon as an Aunt, had taken the time to teach her the common tongue, and had had the kindness to see that she was fed, clothed, and slowly introduced to Rohirrim society.

Her dark hair, blue eyes, and smaller stature immediately labeled her as an outsider (there she went being a Mary-Sue again.) But the people she met welcomed her with open arms, all of them past the days where they were weary of anyone who was not of Rohan. But then again, Fridhu was a well-respected seamstress and member of the community, and had also introduced Amanda as a distance niece.

And thus it was six months and twenty-eight days after her arrival that Amanda attended a fall festival celebrating the harvest in the very streets of Edoras.

Six months, twenty-eight days, and one hour after her arrival that Amanda's ears caught the sound of someone making a speech over the roar of the festivities.

Six months, twenty-eight days, one hour, and five minutes after her arrival that Amanda did the unthinkable, and fell in love with Éomer, King of the Horselords.

Well…shit.

He was everything she had imagined him to be, and more. He was tall, as was everyone in Rohan, she had found, and was incredibly broad-shouldered. His face was kind, though battle-weary, and his eyes danced with humor as he addressed the crowd, who cheered him on. His golden hair, not unlike the majority of the Rohirrim, swayed gently in the wind, and the strength in his arms presented themselves as he raised his goblet in a toast to his people, their health, and his country's prosperity. All too soon, his speech ended, and he stepped down from stair he had been standing on, and joined his people in the celebration.

People went back to talking amongst themselves, but Amanda didn't move. She was too busy mentally hitting her head on the wall, berating herself for becoming even more of a Mary-Sue and falling in love with a cannon character.

But HE didn't love HER, and never would, so she gave herself some bonus points for that.

She had heard Fridhu speak of Éomer many times, of course, and she had read about him in the books. But nothing had prepared her for this. Nothing had prepared her for this…attraction.

She kind of hated him for it.

She also hated the fact that he was probably at least ten years older than her, and _still_, he held her heart in his hands, albeit unknowingly. There was nothing wrong with having several years between partners, but seeing as how she was only twenty-two, she had always focused on men closer to the age.

Had she appeared even _five_ years earlier in the timeline of Middle-earth, then maybe….no, not even then. That could have been even worse, because then she _truly_ would have had a problem trying not to jump his bones the second she spotted him.

And in this day and age, strange women just did _not_ going about throwing themselves royalty without being labeled a 'harlot.'

According to Fridhu, the man was a fair king, a just one. Once the war had ended, he had immediately begun the task of rebuilding his country, taking the time to do it right, and making sure that his people were well provided for in their time of need. He took the time to celebrate the little things in life, and had never been known to lose his temper.

Fridhu seemed to sing his praises to anyone who would listen. But it wasn't until the night after the festival that Amanda found out one more important detail; he was a good king, yes, but also a recently widowed one.

Apparently, Éomer King had lost his dear wife to childbirth not five years back. He was thus left to raise his young son, Elfwine, alone. Something that Amanda believed to be heartbreaking, seeing as how it was said that the young child resembled his mother very closely, even at the tender age of five.

And though it was very upsetting to picture the handsome king alone, it was also nerve wrecking.

Because according to the books ( and the books just _had_ to be right), the pair had spent a long and happy life together. And Amanda took a great deal of time trying to figure out what could have gone wrong. But she came up with nothing.

But she wasn't going to become all angsty and blame this change on her sudden appearance in Middle-earth. That was _such_ a cliché Mary-sue thing to do. So instead, she simply watched from afar and tried not to think about what kind of life she could share with the King of Rohan.

Because, as she had to keep reminding herself over and over, nothing of the sort was ever going to happen, painful as the thought may be.

Which is why, when she ran into him for the first time on the streets of Edoras, she avoided all eye contact and completely ignored him, refusing to reply to his simple "good morning." It was so like her to avoid any kind of confrontation. And unfortunately, her act of evasion was the very thing that had sparked his interest in her.

Go figure.

Such was life. Irony and all.

And not days after said evasion, the King himself had shown up at Fridhu's door, having figured out where the newest member of the Edoras community resided. He had asked her out on the walk around the city, and she had responded with a curt "no."

And then had been promptly hit in the back of the head with the book Fridhu had been reading, and scolded about her rudeness.

Right in front of the King. But instead of scoffing at her rudeness and reluctance to go on a walk with him, he had found it somewhat endearing.

What was _wrong_ with this man?

So, after taking as much time as possible to put on "more appropriate shoes," and grab her warmer shawl, Amanda had set off on a walk with the King of Rohan. She went to great lengths to pretend like she understood less than she actually did, just so that the conversation would be limited. And though he seemed to appear frustrated at points, it did not distract him from trying to get to know her. After all, the man _had_ battled for the very safety of Middle-earth; what was a woman going to do to deter him?

As a result, even while dread was rooting itself in her brain, her heart was racing in her throat, and she had troubles fighting the smile that was desperate to appear on her face.

For those few hours, she hated every single muscle in her face.

But still, she fought it.

And while she thought it was for the greater good, it was draining.

That night, Amanda had managed to convince herself that the King was only showing kindness to welcome her into his kingdom. It had nothing to do with any sort of romantic interested, and even if it did, there was no way she'd welcome any sort of advancements of the kind. She was too practical, and she had no interest in having to appear perfect.

Because there was no way a King would settle for anything less than perfect.

And Amanda Bennett, with her two left feet, sarcastic tongue, and skin that broke out every time she had her period, was no way _near_ perfect.

But days went on, and he continued to call on her, and ignored her sometimes obvious lack of enthusiasm. Sometimes he took her out on a short ride across the plains, others he would simply sit with her while she sewed new socks for the upcoming winter to keep her feet warm. And every night, she convinced herself that she would cut off all interactions the next day and try to go on with her life without him. That she wouldn't become a full-fledged Mary-sue, and would instead find a nice _normal_ man to settle down with, someone who had no ties (other than living in Rohan, of course) to the novels she had read every year without fail.

But then one day, she met his son. And all of her resolve was gone.

Amanda had always been awkward with children. She had never known how to talk to them without feeling stupid, and she had never had much luck relating to them. She had always thought that they could see right through her, and knew how uncomfortable she was around them. But Éomer's son had changed that, and she fell in love instantly.

The little boy, with his raven hair and green eyes, had charmed from the start. With a generous amount of mud streaked upon his chubby face, he had handed her a flower shyly, and asked her if she would tell him a story.

And that was it.

She was done for.

She had needed no more convincing after that.

Amanda Bennett married Éomer, King of Rohan, the following fall, after being accepted happily amongst the Rohirrim. She had never been so happy in her entire life as she stood there in her gold gown, Éomer's hand in her right, Elfwine's in her left, facing her new people. Even _after_ tripping on her way down the aisle.

She had finally become the complete Mary-sue, marriage to a prominent cannon character and all.

But she didn't give a damn.

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><p>Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed it!<p> 


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